Red
by reject187
Summary: Blood red, firey red, as red as...hair? a temper? New kid on the block. Features Blink, Spot, Jack. My first fanfic, be nice. Constructive criticism appreciated also.
1. Da New Kid

A redheaded boy, around the age of 16, but looking like he was 14, walked through the gates. He walked slouched over, hands in his pockets, cap pulled down over his face. Unruly hair stuck out from beneath the cap. His shirt was green, although so dirty and worn you couldn't tell. The parts of his face you could see looked almost coal streaked, and he had no shoes on his feet. Most of the newsies didn't even notice the newcomer, until the Delancy brothers cut in front of him.

"Lemme thru." His voice was as rough as his looks.

"What's ya name?"

"Lemme thru."

"Gimme yer name."

"Should it matta?" Jack Kelly stepped in. The Delancys looked at him, shrinking back a little. "Stop harrassin' da poor kid, ya lousy little shrimps."

"Ya feel like pickin' it today, dontcha, wise guy?" Morris barely squeaked out.

"Ya. I do. Now get yer sour faces outta here before I rearrange 'em."

"Ya wanna make something of it?" Oscar's voice shook.

"Ya wanna face me for once instead, Oscar?" All of a sudden, 4 guys assembled behind Jack, making a formidable formation. The Delancys started to sweat.

"We'll letcha go dis once, Jack, but next time, ya gonna pay big, ya know."

The Delancy brothers quickly made an exit.

The redheaded boy talked first.

"Tanks fo' ya help dere. But I coulda handled it meself, ya know."

"No prob, kid. Don't bodda wit da Delancy brudders, dey's jus' like makin trouble. But don't go lookin fo' a fight wit dem eida." Jack didn't even seem to notice the last sentence. The redhead's temper started to flare up. He took a step towards Jack, flames dancing in his eyes.

"I ain't no kid. Do I look younger den ten ta ya?"

Jack smiled at the kid's temper. "Well, ya shoah are scrawny. Whadda dey call ya?"

"Torch."

"Stick might've been betta. Good ta meetcha." Jack spat in his hand, and held it out. Torch paused a moment before taking it. "Da name's Jack. Dis is Mush, Kid Blink, Dave, and Race." Jack pointed to a Hispanic looking guy, a blond with an eye patch, a kid with curly brown hair, and an Italian with a cigar.

"Awlright." Before anyone could say anything, Torch walked up to the counter. The newsies looked at each other, shrugged, then followed him.

He bought 40 papes, expecting the other newsies to leave him alone. He was wrong.

"So, where ya from? We ain't neva seen da likes of you'se here before."

"Just got in off da train." Torch didn't offer any more. There was an awkward pause.

"So, Torch, ya need a place ta stay? Plenty o' room at da House."

"Nah. Tanks, tho. I gotta place o' me own."

"Suit yerself."

Normally, Jack would have offered to have Torch sell with him. But the kid didn't seem too friendly. Or just wanted his privacy. Either way, Jack decided to send Kid Blink to spy on him. _Just to make sure he ain't no spy or anytin' like dat._

The other newsies walked off, Blink slyly slipping off, leaving Torch almost alone. He walked out of the gates with his 40 papes in his hand and a limp good enough for stage. He found an empty corner, and started singing out the headline. Soon after two he had sold all his papers and walked off to find something to eat. But he didn't get anywhere soon.

"Hey, newbie." Torch froze. A leaf crunched under an unseen foot. "I see ya got a pocket full o' money. Whatcha gonna do wit it?" The voice came from behind him. He whirled around, and saw the two guys who had held him up earlier.

"Whadda ya tink?"

"Hmm. I think," at this, Morris Delancy was in his face, "that you're gonna give it to me." Oscar was pulling him into a nearby alley.

"I don't tink so." Before Torch even finished his sentence, his fist was up and swinging. Morris got the wind punched out of him and a few nasty bruises on his chest. Oscar received a bloody nose and a black eye. They ran off, yelling, "You'll pay for this, newbie! You'll pay!"

"I have no doubt I will." Torch turned around to exit the alley, walking out into the sun, and ran smack dab into one of the newsies he'd met earlier. The other newsie staggered a little, then admiringly commented,

"Ya shoah kin take care o' yerself, Torch, was it?'

"Yah. You'se Kid Blink, aintcha?"

"Yeh." Just as Torch stepped to go around Blink, he spoke. "Hey, ya eaten yet?" Torch stopped.

"I'm starvin'. Jus' finished sellin' today."

"Ya already sold all ya papes? Man, you'se good."

"I was good in…" Torch suddenly stopped talking.

"Where?"

"Neva mind." There was a slight pause. Blink jumped in.

"Good ting dat you'se got a unused corna. Uddawise, sum o' us might've had ta soak ya."

"Good. Tanks fo' not soakin' me when I foist stepped inta da pick-up alley." There was a pause. "I gotta get goin'. I'll see ya." Torch turned to leave, but Blink grabbed him before he could go.

"Well, I was gonna ask if'n you wanna eat wit da udda newsies taday. We usually is at Tilly's. Ya new in town, right?"

"Yah."

"Well, follow me. I'll show ya where it is." And before Torch could protest, Blink was leading the way to Tilly's, almost dragging Torch along behind him. As the bell over the door tinkled, all the newsies turned to see who was coming in. Torch became stiff and scared as a pigeon when all those newsies started staring at him, but Kid Blink just jumped in and began introducing him to his friends.

"Hey, evrabuddy, dis is Torch. He's new in town, jus' off da train. Torch, dis is Crutchy, Skittery, Snipes, Boots, Specs, Les (he's Davy's little brudder), and Sarah, Dave's sista. Ya know evrabuddy else, dontcha Torch?"

"Yah."

Race spoke up. "Heya, Torch, how many papes didja sell taday?"

"40" Race was surprised at the amount and that they were already sold.

"Dat many? Clear yaself out?"

"Yah."

"Dis guy's good for a foirst tima, Jack. Betta keep 'im."

Pretty soon Race was cracking jokes and making the place roar with laughter. Torch had become a bit more comfortable, but he hadn't even cracked a smile yet.

As Blink watched the new kid interact with the other newsies, he noticed that he didn't act like a newsie, even though he kinda picked up that he'd done it before. _Dere's sumptin strange 'bout dis one, _he decided, _and I'm gonna find out what it is._


	2. Torch's Room

A few weeks went by. Torch started to get more comfortable with the others. But every time they offered a place at the Newsboys Lodging House, he declined. He always avoided the question of where he was staying, so one day, Blink got too curious for his own good. He followed Torch home.

Torch walked around the distribution office, down the block, and a hip and a hop to the right got him right in front of another alley. Blink blinked. Right there in the alley, there was a bundle of blankets on a couple crates. A small sack held his few belongings. Across the way was a mound of garbage. It reminded himself of how he used to live before he was a newsie.

Kid stepped to get a closer look, and his shadow fell across Torch, who was pouring that day's earnings into the sack. Torch paused, then turned around and lunged at Kid, knocking him down. Torch's fists were out already, and he was standing ready to give blows.

"Woah, easy dere." Kid threw up his hands. "It's jus' me."

Torch lowered his fists, but that didn't mean his guard was down yet. "Whadda ya doin' heah? Why'd ya follow me?"

"One question atta time. I was jist wonderin' where you'se was livin' dat was betta den livin at da House." Torch helped Kid back to his feet.

"I neva said it was betta, did I?"

"No."

"It's jist…cheaper. Dat's all. More privacy. I don't got nosy brats like you'se crawlin' down me back evry day." Blink bristled at being called a brat, but continued trying to make conversation.

"How 'bout da coppers on da beat?"

"Offica Grady? He's fair. He ain't pulled me in yet." Torch didn't add that he had sneaked blankets to him and that they shared roasted peanuts while talking when he was off the beat. And that he'd convinced the others to "be nice, or I'll make shoah you'se goes back ta filin' fo' da judge."

Kid continued. "Whatcha gonna do when da snow starts fallin'?"

"I'll live. I've done it before."

Kid Blink slid down the wall near the makeshift bed. "So, you don't got fambly either?"

"Does any street kid? Dey all dead. Da fire." Torch sat on the bed, leaning against the wall.

For some reason, Torch was confiding in Blink. He decided to try to keep him talking. "Ya mean da big one in uhh…what was it…Jersey?"

"Yah."

"Dat one was a good sella for da headline."

"Glad I kin help. So, where's your fambly?" Torch didn't even skip a beat while changing the subject. Blink's head whirled, but he managed to answer the question.

"Dead, too. Well, mostly. Dad left my ma when she was pregnant wit me. She died while givin' birth ta me. Ma olda sista, she died in a factory accident. I'm da only one left."

"That's gotta be rough," Torch sighed, while lighting a cigarette.

"Yeh, losin' my folks in da same year, den my sis 6 years lata. But it's betta, now dat I'm wit da newsies. So, really, where are ya from? Ya don't sound like ya from New Yawk."

"I ain't."

"Well, ya can't be from nowheres."

Torch sighed, reluctant to give any information to this nosy, half-blind street rat. "Take a guess. I'll give ya t'ree."

"Ya really like ya privacy, don'tcha?"

"Yah."

Blink wracked his brain for any clues he could pick up from Torch's speech and his habits. "Let's see…I'm thinkin' ya folks immigrated ova…"

"Dey did." Torch blew a ring of smoke out of his mouth.

"And ya from…Switzaland."

"Nah."

"Ireland?"

"Got a wee bit o' it in me, but no." Torch commented with an Irish accent.

"Den…Swedeland."

"Bingo. Whaddaya want fo' ya prize?"

There was a break in conversation. "So, have ya been havin trouble wit da Delancys since ya foist day?"

"Has anyone eva told ya ta mind ya own business?"

"Yeh. I'll take dat as a yes. Why haven'cha told da newsies?"

"Cuz I can handle it on my own." Torch's voice became defensive and what seemed like frustrated, and he stopped leaning against the wall and sat on the bed. Blink snorted.

"Shore ya can, dat's why ya came ta woirk one day wit a nice shina."

"That was jist luck."

"Den why ya been limpin' for real lately, Red?" Blink and Torch jumped up. Morris and Oscar Delancy were standing in the alleyway, blocking any escape. Oscar walked closer. "As I recall, I gave ya da sore hip."

"And I gave ya da shina." Morris grinned proudly.

"And I'm gonna fix ya so none of youse can walk!" Kid Blink charged at the Delancys, Torch right beside him. (Insert a fight scene. Make your own, I suck at these. Kid Blink takes both, Torch cleans up.)

The Delancys ran off, yelling bloody murder.

"Tanks for ya help dere," Torch said grudgingly. Blink shrugged.

"It was nuttin'."

"I still won't come wit ya to da House, but…uhh…couldya do me a favah?"

"Shoah, what?"

"I tink I can trust ya. Take dis," he handed Blink his small sack, "and protect it wit yer life. Don't look in it, don't show nobody, don't give it to nobody cept me. It's got me kale in it, and a few udda things dat's nobody's business."

"Awlright, awlright, I won't look, I'll protect it wit my life, and it's goin in my box at da House. So if'n ya need ta get ya money, or put more in it, its dere."

"Ya swear?" Blink wondered how much he'd have to do to prove he'd do what he said he'd do.

"I swear on da promise of life, on da pain of death, and on da grounds of Brooklyn."

"Tanks."

Kid Blink walked off with the sack underneath his jacket, putting it in his box when he got to the House. He wondered what was in it besides money that was so worth protecting. Normally he would, but he had sworn with the Newsies oath.

_Dang it, Blink! Ya really done it up good dis time. Ya even forgot to figgur out what's so strange 'bout da kid._


	3. King of Brooklyn

Thanks to those who reviewed...greatly appreciated, and i didn't feel like attempting the fight scene cuz the story is already over 20 pgs...thanks again everyone!

Short chapter, sry!

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Hey, Torch!"

Torch turned to find Jack yelling for him as he crossed the street. His eyes narrowed. "Yah. What?" Jack came to a stop next to him.

"Can ya do me a favah?" Torch quickly became more cordial.

"Stop yellin' and I might."

Jack lowered his voice. "I need ya ta take dis ta Brooklyn." He handed him a piece of paper. "Da address is on da back, just say ya got a message for Spot and ya one of Jacky's boys, and dey'll take ya right to 'im. Same ting if one o' 'is boys stops ya."

"I tink I can do dat."

"Go, right now, ya done sellin', aintcha?"

"Yah."

"Go." And with that, Jack pushed Torch toward the bridge.

As he watched Torch run, he pondered over what Blink had told the boys last night at the House. After telling what he'd heard from Torch, he added, "Dere's somethin' strange 'bout 'im I can't put my finga on." The newsies nodded all around. "Keep ya eyes out for 'im."

Jack had noticed the same thing.

_- - - - - - - - -_

_Well, dis is interesting_, Torch thought to himself. _Jack's never trusted me with a message before. I betta get it straight to Spot Conlon. _

He'd heard all the stories of the tough Brooklyn leader and how he helped in the strike. _So now, I gets ta meet da King of Brooklyn. Hmm_.

- - - - - - - - -

Torch stepped onto land on the other side of the bridge. As he walked in what he thought was the general direction of the Brooklyn Newsboys Lodging House, a shadow watched the boy. _I'm either delusional, or that's…no way. I thought Red was dead in the fire. Must've started it, the plank. I'll get Red if it's the last thing I do._


	4. Red

Yes, Red is a person.

- - - - - - -

A few minutes later, Torch knocked on the door of the Lodging house.

"Whadda ya want wit da Brooklyn boys?" A voice from behind made Torch whirl around, quick as a gun. He relaxed when it wasn't anyone he knew.

"So, now datcha done wit ya shock, whadda ya want?" A blond with steel eyes stared at him. Torch started to speak.

"Uh, dis is a message for Spot Conlon an'…"

"An' what?" The blond boy stuck his face right into Torch's. Torch started to get defensive.

"An' it's from Jack Kelly."

"What's it say?"

"Are you Spot Conlon?"

"Yeh. Ya eva hoid of me, shrimp?"

"Yah. Only all da stories. Da lady-catchin', tough as nails Brooklynite newsie who owned half da strike last year."

Spot leaned back and grinned. "Dey teach ya well ova in 'Hatten, dey do. So what's it say?"

"Don't ask me. Read it yaself. I don't snoop in udda's mail." Torch contemplated tossing the folded paper at the boy, but instead handed it to him, who opened it and read. After a minute he looked up. His eyes glinted.

"Tell Jacky-boy dat nobody beats Brooklyn. And dat I'll be ova tomorra."

"Awlright." And with that, Torch ran off towards the bridge.

Spot grinned as he looked again at Jack's letter.

"Hey ya Spotty, just sendin da kid ova ta see if I can trust him. Ya know da drill. And can ya come ova for da poker game tomorra? Race got a whole bunch on a winnin horse. Lets see if we can play 'im outta it. --Jack

- - - - - - - -

After selling his papers the next day, Torch stopped by Tibby's and was about to go home when he decided to walk about town and learn the place a little better. As he walked by a ladies dress shop, he stopped and stared. But no sooner did he stop than he heard two infamously familiar voices behind him.

"So, we meet again, Red. Or should I call ya Rose?"

Torch turned. Shock registered on her face, which she quickly cleaned away.

"Yah, youse a goil, aintcha? I knew it da foirst time ya walked in tru da gates."

Torch tried to look uninterested. "Shore ya did."

"So youse admittin' it, eh?"

She crossed her arms and leaned against the side of the building. "An' if I was?"

"Well, den, we could tell ya pal Jacky-boy." The Delancys moved a little closer. "An' we can tell ya, Jacky ain't real tolerant of goil newsies." Torch blanched at this. "But we can take care of dat, Red. You give us whateva we want, and we'll make sure nobody will eva know who ya really are."

Torch shivered. She didn't want to have her gender and past blown everywhere so she couldn't get a job. And what if Jack wasn't tolerant of girl newsies? What would the other newsies do to her if they knew who she was? Would she rather be taken again by the Refuge…or give the Scumhooks what they wanted…?

"Ya don't agree? We's can run straight ta Snyder, if dat's what ya want."

After a long minute, Torch whispered her answer.

"Ok."


	5. Confrontation

Thanks to you involved in my story...i won't be updating for 2-3 days...so deal with it.

- - - - - - -

_A few weeks later_

"Hey Jack."

"What, Blink?"

"Ya see Torch?" Blink pointed to the last person in line, even more slouched over than what was usual for him.

"Yeah, I see 'im. What's wrong, Blink?"

"Don't he look…sorta…skinnier dan usual?"

Torch's clothes almost hung on the body they covered. The cheeks were beginning to sink in. And when he slapped his money down for 70 papes, his hand shook, and looked real bony. There was no way it was obvious.

"And he ain't been round Tibby's lately eida."

"Ya right, Blink. It don't look too good. Hold my papes, will ya?" Jack said, handing his papers to Blink and walking up to Torch.

"Hey, Torch, I ain't seen ya round Tibby's lately. Sumtin up?"

"No." Torch's arm shook, as he sat his papers on his shoulder.

"Well, ya ain't lookin too good, kid."

"I'se fine." Jack knew he wasn't. He didn't even react to his use of kid. He decided to head straight to the point of the matter.

"Ya been eatin' lately, Torch?"

Torch sighed and rolled his eyes. "Why does it matta ta ya, Jack?"

"Cuz if my newsies ain't healthy, dey can't sell papes. And if dey can't sell papes, dey can't eat. And if dey can't eat, dey ain't healthy." Jack leaned against the wall, hands jabbed in his pockets, looking calm as ever. Torch, on the other hand, was calmly infuriated.

"Jist a cycle of destruction, ain't it, den?'

One of Jack's eyebrows quirked upward. "Ya seem ta be in it."

"Do I?" The challenge in Torch's voice made Jack freeze. Something about this kid just pushed a button in him.

"Alwright den, be stubborn. See if I care!" Jack stormed off and grabbed his papers from Blink.

Blink also headed out with his papers, but not before sending a look of pity towards Torch.

Snow fell as Blink trudged toward 44th and 2nd, hawking the headlines.

_- - - - - - -_

_Later that day_

"Hey, Red, what about da deal?"

Torch sighed, and reaching into her pocket, drew out half of her paper money. She set it in Oscar's hand, who counted it, and grinned satisfactorily. "Rememba, Red. No talkin' ta nobody else."

"I ain't been." It wasn't that hard. She normally didn't talk to people anyway. It was just another way to have control over her. "Have ya seen me?"

"Only Cowboy," Morris snarled, accusingly.

"I ran 'im off, if dat's whatcha mean."

They ignored her explanation. "No goin' ta Tibby's."

"I ain't stupid." Oscar slapped her, which didn't faze her. "For cryin' out loud, ya ain't me mudda!" Her eyes narrowed. Oscar snarled, and a muscle in his jaw jumped.

"I'se gonna be ya faddah if ya don't stop backtalkin'."

Torch went pale. The fire went out of her eyes, and she slowly backed away.

Until she ran into something else. And it wasn't a wall.


	6. Secrets

Longer one now...makin up for the past few days. Enjoy!

- - - - - - -

"Hey, ain't ya boys got manna's yet? Dis how ya treat ya friends?" Spot Conlon pushed Torch behind him and started toward Oscar. "Get outta heare, before I tear ya head off jist fo' lookin' so stupid."

Oscar and Morris ran, like always. Spot turned back to Torch, who had fallen over. "Hey, kid, ya don't look too good. Didn't ya come ova wit da message, couple weeks ago?"

"Ya." Spot looked more closely at Torch, then pushed him into a nearby alley. Torch's eyes grew wide. "C'mon, Spot, I awlready gots 2 people beatin' up on me, I don't need a thoird."

Spot just stared at Torch, who still couldn't figure out what he was staring at. "I ain't gonna beat on ya. And I'm surprised Jacky-boy hasn't picked up on dis yet."

"On what?" Torch's voice got shaky. _Does he know? Oh, Lord, please tell me he doesn't know!_

"Youse good, kid, ya really good." Torch just stared. "Youse a goil, ain't ya?"

_Gol! Anudda knows. Crap. _With her eyes downcast, Torch reluctantly commented. "Does all da guys see dis, or jist da ones dat hate me?" Spot glared at her, while pushing her a little harder against the wall. _Why would she tink dat afta I jist helped her?_

"Foirst off, I don' hate ya. Second, why ya lettin da Delancys beat up on ya when I knows poifectly well from Jacky-boy's stories da ya kin take care of yaself? And yeah, it's obvious when ya let him hit ya like dat."

"Crap." It came out in a whisper, as Torch sank down to the floor. Shaking, she wrapped her arms around her legs.

"Cyamon, I kin help ya."

Torch stiffened as Spot sank down beside her. Spot was surprised at her reaction. _Dis goil awlways dis jumpy? _"Ya can't always. But maybe ya kin…"

"What kin I do for ya, miss?" Spot waited a while, being patient while Torch made up her mind. She waited a second before plunging in.

"Well…what's Jack's thinkin on goil newsies?"

_Crap! I gots ta tell her da truth on this one. _He took a moment for a way to break it to her gently. "Well, he ain't zactly likin' dem, but…"

"Why?"

An innocent question. Spot sighed. "He's getin' so sick of a da goils dat used ta come thru, needin' help, den makin' da boys fall in love wit 'em. Den when dey leave, da boys get sluggish in dere sellin'. It's not dat he's cold-hearted or a slave-driva, jist doin' what's best for 'is boys."

There was another dramatic moment of silence. "Don't tell anyone, will ya? I jist needed money, and dis was da best way ta not be noticeable…?" Torch sent pleading eyes into Spot's face. Spot paused a moment, before relenting. He saw truth in her eyes.

"'Course not, kid. If ya need help, jus' come ova da bridge."

"Thanks. I'll walk wit ya to da House, if dat's where ya headed." Spot nodded. They both got up and started walking. Spot jammed his hands in his pockets, and matched his strides to his walking companion. They both stared at the snow swirling around their feet as they shuffled down the sidewalk.

"So, did da Delancys figgur out you was a goil?"

"Yah. Now I gotta give 'em half my money, not talk ta anybody, an' can't go ta Tibby's. Basically cuttin' off awl social connections." She snorted, then spoke under her breath, but Spot heard. "Little demons, dis ain't no deal, it's a slavery."

"Not enough kale ta go ta eat somewheres?" He decided to ignore her mutterings.

"No." Spot wondered at this. How long had this been going on?

"How long has dis been goin' on?"

"Few weeks." She shrugged offhandedly.

"Would it be dat bad if Jack knew?" Spot couldn't believe that she would continue to play into the hands of the Delancys just to keep her privacy. Jack had told him enough about Torch to know that he…or she…liked to keep his privacy.

"Ya. Don't need any more bad experiences wit guys. Plus," she paused, then shivered, "they'd tell Snyda I was out heah."

Spot stopped. His curiosity about Snyder overrode his curiosity about her comment 'bad experiences wit guys.' "You was in da Refuge?"

Torch shrugged it off and kept walking. Spot had to jog to catch up to her again. "Nah. Not da one heare anyways. Da one in Jersey." Spot glanced at her. She noticed the silent urge to keep talking. "Yah, I was da one who started da fire dere. I was hopin' Snyder would've died. But everyone got out dat wanted ta."

Spot shook his head. "Wow. Dat one was a good headline."

"So dey tell me." They entered the house. Spot started to go upstairs and Torch headed for the boxes behind the desk. He stopped halfway up and turned around, contemplating saying something helpful, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was,

"Well, guess I'll see ya 'round, den, Torch." She didn't even look up. She nodded as she poured most of her money into her sack, saving enough to buy newspapers the next day.

"Yah." He mentally smacked his head against the wall. _Real bright, Spotty. Real bright._

And they parted ways.

- - - - - - - -

When Torch got back to his place, Blink was waiting.

"Hey, Torch!"

"SHHH!" Torch grabbed Blink and brought him to the end of the alley. "Da Delancys can't see me talkin' to ya. De'll soak me."

Blink got frustrated. "What da HECK is it wit you and da Delancys! I tol' ya, da newsies kin help!" He'd always believed in banding together since the strike, and didn't know why Torch was so against having help.

"Keep it down awlready!" Torch slapped a hand over Blink's mouth before he could shout anything else. "I'll tell ya what da deal is. Dey found out ma secret. Dey won't tell if I don't talk to any of da newsies, don't go ta Tibby's, and give dem half o' my profits. Ya happy now!" And Torch pushed him to the ground.

Blink got up and growled. "What da heck is so important dat ya gotta keep it from evrybody and dose dat find out kin blackmail ya wit it!"

"I ain't tellin' ya. Watch me enough and ye'll know. Ask Spot. I don't feel like tellin' it all ova again taday." Torch's voice broke as he turned away and sank down in the corner.

Blink softened a little, but his voice was still harsh. "Heah. Ya probly won't thank me for it, but heare's somethin ta eat. I kin see now why ya can't eat at Tilly's no more." He didn't understand her motives for being so almighty stubborn, but now he know a reason for the eating problem.

Torch paused, considering the food Blink was handing to him. He hadn't eaten a solid meal since before the Delancys got a hold of him. He was too proud to beg, and too poor to buy. The food the nuns gave out in the morning was hardly enough to sustain him through the day. After another moment, the last shred of his pride gave way and he grabbed the sandwich from Blink. "Tanks, Blink. One day, me pride is gonna get da best o' me," Torch lamented, before tearing into the sandwich.

- - - - - - - -

The shadow across the way watched the whole encounter. It grinned evilly, then turned towards the distribution office.


	7. Trouble

From now on I don't post til i get at least one review from the last chapter. Thanks to all you who are still reading this crappy thing.

- - - - - - - -

Two days after the incident, Blink had gotten his papers and was sitting down to look through the headlines. In a few minutes, he looked up. _Strange, Torch is usually heah by now._ He didn't think anything of it.

The line got shorter. Torch still wasn't there. Blink started to get uneasy.

There was 5 people left in line. Torch still hadn't made an appearance. Blink left his papers where he had been sitting and walked up to Jack.

"Hey, Jack, ya see anythin' outta place?" Jack stopped what he was doing and looked around.

"Not really…wait a sec…where's Torch? He's usually heah by now."

"I tink we should go lookin' fo' 'im. Dere's sumptin wrong heah, I kin feel it."

"Da Delancys?" Blink had told Jack about the conversation he'd had with Torch in the alley.

"Mebe."

Jack dropped his papes in the snow. "Let's go." Blink ran out of the gates towards Torch's alley, with Jack following.

- - - - - - - -

Meanwhile…

"Red. Re-e-ed. Gittup, Red!" Torch heard the voices but couldn't place them. All of a sudden, a slap on her cheek woke her. She tumbled off the crates and onto the alley floor.

Evil cackles filled the air. The Delancy brothers.

"Wha? Whad I do?" Torch mumbled, still half asleep.

"I heard you was talkin' ta one of da street rats yestaday. Ya know dats against da deal."

Torch was still struggling to wake. And against something else. "An'…?"

"So we sent fo' Mista Snyda today. An' he ain't gonna have no problems pickin' ya up."

Torch's eyes shot open. She was being held helpless with her arms twisted behind her back, sitting on her knees. Her arms felt like they were being twisted out of her sockets.

Morris was facing her, fitting his hands to a pair of brass knuckles. "Now, Red, you yell an' we'll make it woise."

Torch didn't make a sound, as she took punch after punch in the face with the bare hand, then got the wind knocked out of her as Morris punched her in the stomach with the brass knuckles. Oscar was slashing her arms and legs just enough so it would hurt but not enough to make her bleed to death. Torch started to lose it. Just as they were binding her so she couldn't walk away, another voice appeared in the alley.

"Leave. Him. ALONE!"

Torch plunged into darkness.

- - - - - - - -

Blink, Jack, Race, Dave, and Mush rushed in to attack the Delancys. After a few minutes of soaking by 5 guys, the Delancys ran like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off.

Jack grinned in satisfaction, then turned to Torch. His grin disappeared as he surveyed the damage. "Let's get 'im to da House, boys."

- - - - - - - -

As they rushed by the distribution center, carrying Torch, a few other newsies saw what was happening and ran after them too. Jack brought Torch up to the room and commissioned Blink to take care of him. "Afta all, Blink, you'se like da newsie noirse, wit ya fixin' up evrybody comin' in sick or wounded. If'n ya need help, ask Kloppman."

Blink immediately took control, surveying the body as he talked. "I gots ta have room ta woirk, Jack. It'll take a while, but dere's not much ta do udder dan bandage cuts an' make shoah he ain't got infection. One-man job." Then, to everyone else, "Get on da streets, nuttin ta see heare, newsies. He's unconscious." All the newsies reluctantly filed out, except Jack. Blink looked up.

"Jack, get outta heah."

Jack only shook his head. "I feel responsible fo' dis, Blink. I wish I woulda pushed harda for 'im ta come heah."

"Well dere's not much ya can do bout it now." Blink paused. "Well, I might need a helpa. Ya wanna volunteer?"

"Yeh. It'll ease my conscience a bit." Jack ran to get the supplies Blink asked for.

Blink took a once-over of Torch's body, taking mental notes. _Cuts on arms, legs, facial cuts and bruises, rope burn. Let's start with the limb cuts. Legs look worse. Let's go._

Blink pulled off Torch's pants, and almost let out a shriek of shock.

_So dat's da secret. HE is a SHE._

- - - - - - - -

Slowly, the newsies trickled into the Lodging House, after selling the evening edition, by ones and twos. They hung around in the large downstairs room until curfew. As soon as they got into the ward, they immediately noticed one difference. Chaos broke out, with all the people talking.

The bed Torch had been lying on was empty.


	8. Speechless

The review thing stands for the rest of the story.

GN-yes it is. and don't argue with me. you'll never win.

madmbutterfly-Torch would never tell...this was probably the best way

Everyone-thanks for reading and reviewing and this shall end...uhh...i dunno when...couple more chapters?

Thank you!

- - - - - - - - - -

Earlier that day

Torch slowly gained consciousness. _What? I'm warm? What's dis? A blanket?_ She mentally checked her body. _So, let's see. I'm in a warm place dat's as silent as a tomb, lying on sumptin soft. And someone's fixed me up._ She forced her eyes open.

She looked up, found a ceiling, and figured she was in a bed. She let her eyes wander around the room, where the door and the windows were. The walls were a dingy white, and the room saw full of bunk beds and normal beds. She finally figured she was in the Manhattan Newsies Boarding House. She grinned. _Dis place is a sty! Glad I dinna come heah oiler._ Then she heard voices. She quickly shut her eyes again and wiped the smile off her face.

"…so, Jack, Torch is really a goil." Torch had to contain her scream of indignation.

"No way." A tone of disbelief.

"Yeah. I tink Spot knows da story, or at least part o' it." The voices lingered over her, and it took all her power to act like she was sleeping. "Eh, she's still out o' it." A cool cloth touched her forehead. It felt like heaven. "Yeah, she's got a fevah too." The voices drifted away again. "Bettah ta leave her alone right now." The voices drifted down the hall, and she could hear them no more. She fell back to sleep.

A while later, Torch woke again, the first thought going through her mind as, _Great. Blink AND Jack know I'm a goil. What's Jack gonna do ta me? Like Snyda? Great. I gotta get outta heah. _She opened her eyes again and slowly sat up, so she wouldn't get dizzy. She swung her legs over the side, flinching when the bed squeaked, and trying not to groan as her body told her that she really needed to stay still. She ignored it. Her shoes were right by the bed, so she picked them up and found her way to the door. Without her shoes on she wouldn't make more noise than she had to.

She stuck her head out the door. No one. She stepped out of the room and slowly started down the hall. But before she could make it to the steps, Kid Blink came up them. She froze, like a deer caught in headlights.

- - - - - - - - -

Blink froze, like a deer caught in headlights. Nothing had prepared him for the seeing formerly unconscious Torch walking down the hallway with her shoes in her hand.

After the moment of shock passed, Blink started towards Torch. He saw a glimmer of fear in her face, but that quickly disappeared as she immediately tried to get around him to the stairs. He blocked her path. She tried again. He got in the way. Her face was made up of dogged determination. This went on until Blink was tired of blocking her path and just pinned her to the floor. He pressed his face close to hers and whispered. She started to shake. _No. Not again. Dis can't be happenin' again. Please, Lord!_

"Now you lissen heah, Torch, or whateva ya name is. Ya pass off as a boy, fool evrybody 'cept da Delancys and Spot, I befriend ya, den ya get soaked by da Delancys, and I fix ya up, getting da shock o' my life seein' you'se was a goil, and you'se tryin' ta leave witout a single gabye?" He stopped to take a breath. " 'Sides, ya ain't in no shape ta be runnin' round New Yawk in da heat…cold…whateva it is…of winta." As Kid spoke, his voice rose from a whisper to an almost shout. His face was contorted in a way only angry people could. Torch knew that face too well. She was scared out of her wits, her only thoughts as fervent prayers._ What's he gonna do now? Please, Lord, not like before. Please, not again!_

Torch fought to get away as Kid picked her up and carried her back into the ward, locked the door behind them then set her back down on the bed. He sat a chair that was beside the bed backwards. She tried to get away again, but only to be foiled in the attempt. He dumped her back on the bed, on her back, and held down her shoulders. He could see she was terrified and in pain, but wanted answers first. "Now, you'se ain't leavin' dis room till I get da rest o' da story, what I didn't heah from Spot. An' if ya try ta run, I'll jist pin ya agin." Blink finally let her go, seeing that she would stay still, and sat down, straddling the chair. He started staring her down with his one good eye. And believe you me, Blink has one intimidating stare.

Torch broke eye contact first and instead concentrated on relaxing her muscles, closing her eyes as she did so. She sighed, opened her eyes, and finally began.

"Dere really ain't much else ta tell ya. Me real name is Theresa Lynne O'Bryan, also known as Torii, also know as Torch." Her voice was almost lifeless. "Me ma was dead, no olda sibs, and I was livin' wit me dad." She shuddered, but pressed on. "He would, uh, beat me." Admitting that seemed to release the dam of secrets held in her being. "Sometimes he raped me too, when I was olda and less cute. I ran away at 10, dressed as a boy. Snyda found me soon afta. When he found I was a goil, he became like a second faddah to me. Like me original faddah, who died witout me ta provide kale fo' 'im. Few years lata, I broke out, set da place on fiar, and lef'." She stopped. "I was 13 at da time. Dat was t'ree years ago." She paused again. "Dat's all of it." She let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding since Blink pinned her in the hallway. She hadn't looked over at Blink once during the recitation, and only now chanced a peek at his reaction.

"Wha' were ya doin' da las' t'ree years?" He had worked to keep his features unreadable, using his years of acting as a newsie, and had been able to pull it off. He had been shocked at what he heard her speak of, almost offhandedly.

"Beggin'. Sellin' papes where I could. Betta dan sellin my soul ta earn me keep." She chanced another peek at Blink. "I've neva tol' anybody all dat."

Blink just sat back and stared. This girl had gone through more than he thought possibly could happen to a girl. And she didn't deserve a bit of it. Torch spoke again, breaking into his thoughts.

"I'm pretty shoah I desoived most of it, tho. Cuz of me mule-headed, Irish stubbornness. Me mudda used ta say I was strong-willed since birth." She closed her eyes, a smile teasing the corner of her lips. Blink wondered if she was thinking of her family. Suddenly it disappeared. "I gotta get outta heah."

Blink finally spoke. "Why?"

"Da Delancys are gonna get me agin. Snyda. Dey'll kill me. Eida one or da udda. And de rest of da newsies won't take it lightly ta bein' fooled by a goil." _What'm I gonna do? _Thoughts ran through her head at the speed of light. Suddenly she sat up, a slight sparkle in her eye, ignoring all bodily screams for her to lay back down. "Hey, Brooklyn is da toughest borough, right?"

"Yeh." Kid became uneasy._ What's her crazy mind cookin' up now?_

"Spot tol' me if I needed help, ta come ova da bridge. Dat'll woirk." She sank back down, nodding her head, the smile back teasing her lips. "Dat'll woirk jist fine."

"What? Are ya crazy? What 'bout da Brooklyn newsies?" Blink almost shouted.

"Yah, I'm crazy, and what 'bout da Brooklyn newsies? Dey kin probly protect me from Snyda and da Delancys jist fine. Plus, only Spot knows me ova dere. I'm da poifect stranger. Jist get da newsies ta accept me ova dere, and its poifect." Torch's voice was perfectly calm, which was good at convincing people to her plans.

Kid blinked at her logic. "We betta clear it up wit Spot foist. He jist left. I'll run an' get 'im."

Torch blinked. "He was heah? Why?"

"He hoird da news from Jacky-boy." Blink smiled at the look of shock on her face, then almost flew out of the room, and in less than 10 minutes was back with Spot.

Spot stopped at the sight of Torch sitting up in bed. She had no idea that he'd just sat by her bed for the last few hours, wondering if she would ever wake up. He had taken a brotherly liking to this (at times) spit-fired redhead. He took off his hat.

"Ya said ya'd help if I eva needed it, right, Spot?" He nodded, his hair falling over one eye. "Well, would dis woirk?" Torch started talking. As she spoke, a smile grew over Spot's face.

- - - - - - - - -

Back to the evening

"Wheah's Torch!" Jack yelled over the hubbub. Everyone went silent in an instant. "Blink!" Jack shouted, walking slowly through the crowd. "Blink! Get ya cowardly behind out heah so I can soak it!"

Blink calmly stepped from behind the bunks. "I ain't no coward, Jack. And dere's a reason Torch ain't heah." He paused.

"Jack…Torch…he's dead." Blink looked utterly crushed.


	9. Step Out of Your Shadow

- - - - - - - - - -

Jack sank down on the bed Torch had been lying on, dazed. Blink came over and sat down next to him. He slung an arm over Jack's shoulders then whispered in his ear. "I gots ta talk to ya soon, k?"

Jack nodded, out of reflex. "Let's go." They left Race leading Mush, Skittery, and Crutchy in a game of poker. Jack led the way next door, to the washroom, where they started a hushed conversation.

"Torch is WHERE?" Jack almost yelled. As I said, it _started_ as a hushed conversation. For about the first sentence.

"Keep it DOWN, Jack! Or I'll gag ya till you'se heah me out!" Jack took a deep breath, trying to calm down and process the information he had just been given at the same time.

"Awlright already. So, Torch is where?" The calming effect worked. The processing part was still a bit fuzzy.

"Ya hoird me! In Brooklyn! Spot assured me she'd be ok. Relax. Ya can go ova and check on her evry day if ya wanted ta. At least it's Brooklyn instead o' Hades, Jack. Be grateful fo' dat." Blink almost pleaded with him.

"Mebe I should, I dunno. Dis kid's been givin' me a lot a trouble." Jack blew up a breath to get the hair out of his eyes as he paced.

"What if you'se was in her shoes? What would you do? What do ya think she's feelin' right now?" Now Blink was the one close to shouting. Jack stopped and clamped a hand over his mouth.

Jack pictured the girl facing a room full of guys, whom she had never seen before, and whose gender had always betrayed her. He nodded in agreement as he thought. He would be petrified. Then another thought hit him. He took his hand off Blink's mouth.

"You got feelin's for da kid, Blink?"

"NO!" Blink was surprised Jack would even think of a thing like that.

"Keep it down, as ya said oilier, and I see a lie." Jack glared at him, the infamous glare that made all his newsies tell the truth, trying to find verity in Blink.

Blink threw up his hands, as if in surrender. "In all honesty, Jack, only protective feelin's. Like…like I was her olda bruddah or sumptin. Honest!" And Blink was telling the truth. This isn't a romance story. I swore it wouldn't be.

Jack studied his face.

"I swear on da promise o' life, on da pain o' death, an' on da grounds o' Brooklyn dat I do not like Torch, da newsie, in any type o' romantical way whatsoeva."

Jack finally nodded. "Awlright. I'se goin' ova tomorra afta 3. She gonna be sellin' papes or restin'?"

Blink let out a sigh of relief, glad he wasn't under pressure any more. "Restin'. At least a week, I tol' Spot. No getin' outta da House 'til her fevah breaks. Da trip ova was taxing enough."

Immediately Jack was concerned. His face said so. "What happened?"

Blink slipped a half smile onto his face and shook his head. "You wouldn't believe it if it kicked ya in da face."

- - - - - - - - - -

Later than earlier, but earlier than later

Alright, it was right before everyone got back, but at night. Alright?

They sneaked by lanterns and dodged light, trying to go slow enough for the wounded Torch but fast enough to get to Brooklyn before midnight. Torch was following Spot, who was being followed by Blink. All of a sudden Spot stopped.

"Oof." Blink ran into Torch.

"Oof." Torch ran into Spot.

"Ow!" Spot ran into a wall. They all fell over into a heap of snow. (Sorry! Had to do a domino effect!)

_Wait a second. That isn't a wall. No way is dere a wall in da middle o' da sidewalk. Plus, it's got feet. And a bowler's hat. And a…black…suit…coat._ Torch stood up and looked up into the face of a familiar adversary.

"So we meet again, Torii."

The figure stepped out of the shadows. Torii's face paled, but then gained a determined look that would have made Spot back down if he had seen it.

Snyder grinned evilly.

- - - - - - - - -


	10. Climax

Thanks to all of those who reviewed yesterday. GN-you make me laugh. I dunno if thats good or bad. And i'm still arguing.

- - - - - - - -

Torch grinned, her old cockiness in place. "Well if it ain't Mista Snyda. How'd ya break outta jail, Scumbucket? If I know you, ya bribed da guard."

"Well, my Torii still has her spirit, doesn't she, boys?" Snyder looked over at Spot and Blink, almost forgotten, still sitting on the ground. Spot was the first to respond. He jumped up.

"Whadda ya want wit Torch, Snyda?" Spot snarled, placing a protective hand on Torch's shoulder.

"Why, I just wanted to say hi to my old friend," Snyder grabbed Torch by the collar while pushing Spot back to the ground, "and take her back where she belongs."

Blink was up by now. "If ya wanna take her, back to the hole ya call da Refuge, or ta ya house, ya gotta go thru me."

Spot stepped beside him. "An' me."

"And me." A voice from behind made the boys whirl around. Torii couldn't move. All she heard was the voices of the boys and the one familiar voice she couldn't place. She could only see Snyder's face. It turned pale, then nervous, then something almost like fear that grew and jumped around his face. One part of her mind was overjoyed to finally see fear on the face of the feared. The other part wondered if this was a good or bad thing.

"Well, if it ain't Offica Grady!" Spot's voice.

"Well, if it ain't my friends, da newsies!" There was a few low words, then, "I'm takin' ya in, Snyda. If you'se get out agin, I'll make sure da judge puts ya on Death Row." Officer Grady moved behind Snyder and handcuffed him, causing Torch to drop to the ground. "An' believe me, I have more friends in high places than you do." He smiled at Torch. "Hiya, Torch! I'll see ya lata, alright?" Torch could hardly speak.

Blink and Spot pulled her back up. "Tanks, Offica Grady. We'll see ya lata." The boys waved. Torch managed a small smile.

"'Bye, boys." Grady waved back as he hauled Snyder off to the police station around the corner.

Spot wiped his brow. "Whew. Dat was too close fo' comfort. Let's go, Torch."

Torch didn't respond. Spot shook her. "Torch?"

She was limp against their shoulders. Spot looked at Blink, who shrugged.

"Shock from seein' Snyda an' bein' threatened, an' de cold. We betta get 'er ta Brooklyn as soon as possible." Spot nodded.

"I'll carry 'er."

_- - - - - - - - - -_

_Whoa. I'm floating. Or something. Gol! Why is it so stinkin' bright!_ Torch squinted. Opened her eyes. Then closed them as quickly as possible. _Is it possible? Am I in da Refuge? If not, why's dere a bunch a boys 'round my bed…oh yeah._ _Brooklyn Newsboys Lodging House. I should really stop dis blackin' out ting. It's getin' inconvenient._

She opened her eyes again. _Gol. I feel like Snow White and the dwarves…'cept these ain't dwarves. An' dere's way more dan seven._ One of them lifted his head and shouted across the room, "Hey Spot! Da goil's awake!"

"Awlright den!" a voice answered back. "Evrybody, da show's ova, get to ya bunks!" Groans met the voice all around. "Cyamon, guys, we had a deal! An' ya gotta sell tomorra! It's just a goil!"

All the faces disappeared from around her bed. She heard shuffling, muttering about, "Yeh, just a goil.," then a door closing. Spot's face came into her line a vision. "So, ya decided ta grace us wit ya presence. Blink heah was afraid fo' a minute dere ya'd gone and lef' us fo' good."

"I did not!" Blink's face also appeared above her head. Silence ensued. Torch finally looked up. She had some questions, and it wasn't going to go over very well if they didn't speak to her.

"Guys, guys." Torch interrupted, sticking up a hand in between the boys giving each other death glares.

"What." The guys were still staring at each other.

"Foirst of all, where am I in da House? And second, how long do I gotta stay heah, Spot?"

Spot looked back at her first. "I win!" Blink yelled. Spot looked back and silenced him with one look that said, _Ya do that again, and I'll pound ya inta da ground so hard, only ya hair will show._ Blink slinked away. Spot spoke.

"Well, ya in my room in da House, where you'll stay 'til ya leave agin. Blink heah," he motioned to the figure now sitting on the chair by the bed, "says ya gotta stay in da House itself 'til ya fevah breaks. Den I decided you'll stay in Brooklyn 'til ya tough enough to whip da Delancys silly."

Torch mentally kicked herself. She'd known the plans. She fought off sleep to ask another question. "How long ya tink dat'll be?"

"Few weeks at da most. Delancys ain't hard ta break. Jist gotta hit 'em hard enough."

Blink nodded. "Dat's fo' shoah."

Spot leaned closer. A small smile slipped onto his face. "I'll get ya outta heah as soon as I kin, I promise."

Torch smiled weakly. "Tanks guys." Her eyes closed, and soon she was sleeping peacefully. The wave had finally won over her depreciated body.

Blink looked at Spot again. "We bettah let her sleep. Don' wake her up tomorra." He stopped, uncomfortable with leaving his patient, a girl nonetheless, in Brooklyn. He reluctantly headed for the door. "I should head back now."

Spot shook his head and cut him off. "Too late fo' dat. You kin stay heah. I'll take da top bunk. You can take da bottom. Torch heah already took ma bed." Spot looked once more at the sleeping girl. "No wonda she could pass fo' a boy. She's ugly enough. Hardly has a chest, eida."_ But, _he thought, _when she's sleepin' she looks more at peace dan in da day too…_

Blink was sharing the same thoughts. "I agree, but don't say dat round her. She'd probly pound ya in a few weeks." Spot grinned.

"At least Jack don't have ta worry bout her stealin' his boy's hearts."

Blink chuckled. "Dat's fo' shoah."

- - - - - - - - - - -

In a few weeks, Torch was well enough to go back to Manhattan. Jack had visited several times, and they'd worked out a compromise. Torch could sell papes and could stay in the attic, where the boys wouldn't bug her. And Jack would get to scare his boys out of their wits when Torch came back with her longer hair. And seemingly back from the dead. Spot laughed so hard when they told them their prank that he almost fell off the top bunk.

"Ya boys are gonna have da scare of dere lives, dat's all I gotta say." Spot finally strung together a coherent sentence around the literal giggle attack and gasping for breath. Then he was off again. Jack and Torch stared at each other. The leader of Brooklyn, giggling! "Torch…Jack…boys…new…" That's all Jack and Torch could discern between the fits of laughter. Jack and Torch still couldn't figure out what was so funny.

Jack stood up and smacked Spot, who actually did fall off the bunk this time.

- - - - - - - - - - -

"Hey, hey, hey." Jack got everyone's attention and the noise in the bunkroom settled down again. "We got a newcoma, so I want evrybody ta be nice. Jist in off da train, and needed a place ta stay. Dey'll be stayin' in da attic."

"What's dere name?" someone from the back shouted.

"Dey call demselves…Red."

c


	11. Things are not always what they seem

Jack knocked on the door. "Come in, Red."

Torch walked in, dressed like a hooker. Her chin-length hair, along with some makeup (which she never wore anyway) convinced the guys that they'd never seen her before. The guys' eyes went wide. "Dis some kinda joke, Cowboy! Dis don't look like no newsie ta me!"

Torch pulled off the oversized dress, borrowed from Medda, revealing a newsie outfit. She pulled her cap over her head, hiding the longer hair.

"Hey…Jack…" A guy from the back yelled.

"Yeah, Skittery?" Jack fought to keep his laughter under control.

"Dis goil…she looks kinda familiar…" Skittery scratched his head.

"Wait a second!" Race yelled. "Dat's Torch!"

"What?" "I taut Torch died?" "Torch?" Torch raised her hands, and the hubbub silenced.

"I'll explain if ya ask, but I don't feel like it right now. So I'll leave ya fellas alone. G'nite!"

A round of goodnight's echoed from around the room, mostly from reflex because most were still in shock.

"See you'se tomorra!" And with that, she closed the door. At the slamming of the door, the boys stepped out of their trance. A couple shook their heads, as if trying to clear the image from their minds.

"Jack! Don' scare us like dat!" Race yelled. Then, to the rest of the newsies, "Git 'im!"

The pillow fight that ensued lasted the rest of the night, while Torch slept on upstairs, a slight smile on her face, completely oblivious to the chaos beneath her head.

A few days later at the Distribution Center 

"Why if it ain't liddle Red Ridin' Hood. How's ya grandma?"

Torch turned around to face the Delancys. A smirk lifted the corner of her mouth. "How 'bout I kick ya where da sun don't shine. Den you'se can ask me 'bout me grandma." The boys looked at each other, then back to Torch. Some of their cockiness about beating the girl up faded as reviewed her answer. Did she just challenge them?

"Where'd da liddle sweetcheeks go?" Morris stepped closer, trying to gain back the control they used to have.

Jack stepped in. "Down ta Brooklyn."

The Delancys blanched, looked at each other, then ran all the way to the East River and jumped in. Torch turned to Jack.

"Tanks."

"No prob, Torch."

She grinned, spit in her hand and stuck it out. "Call me Red."

The End

Or is it?

- - - - - - -

Sorry, cruddy ending, i could've done better with it, i know. I'm thinkin bout doin a sequel...but no ideas. anybody got some? lol. So, thanks to those who have been diligently reading...such as

Gryffindor's Newsie-I'm glad you have been enjoying it. I'm still arguing. And school started yesterday-i have an excuse for not updating. So there! sticks tongue out, crosses arms, and turns away to sulk

madmbutterfly-thanks for your constructive criticism and your encouragement.

Racket-thnx! Don't tell you know who about you know what you know where.

Silence and Pussycat-thanks for the good reviews!

Everyone else i might have forgotten and those who didn't review-thanks for reading anyway.


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